


endgame

by villiageidiot



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-27
Updated: 2010-12-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 05:58:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/732219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/villiageidiot/pseuds/villiageidiot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blaine meets the men behind New Directions, one by one (sort of).</p>
            </blockquote>





	endgame

Blaine gets his introduction to the men of New Directions in degrees. The first one he meets is Kurt’s glee club director right before winter break. It’s not really a formal introduction but they nod when they pass each other as Mr. Shuester makes his way into the Dalton common room. Blaine hears Kurt greet him and he sounds so … _happy._

Blaine gets an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. Kurt’s director drove all the way to Westerville to what, say hi? Give holiday wishes? Check in on his former student?

He’s heard some stories; he knows that these people -- Kurt’s friends -- will do a lot for him and he wonders how long a place like Dalton can hang on to someone like Kurt. If Mr. Shuester is any indication of the people waiting for him back in Lima, Blaine doesn’t think they’re going to get to keep Kurt long.

Blaine decides to make the most of the time he’ll actually get.

:::

The introductions pick up some steam from then on out; he meets the step-brother next. Blaine assumes that this encounter will be a whole hell of a lot more intimidating than the two seconds he’s spent with Kurt’s former glee club director but it ends up being a lot less intimidating than it is uncomfortable. So so uncomfortable. For all parties involved.

Kurt’s showing him around his room and Blaine’s trying to wrap his mind around the fact that this kid has an entire freaking basement to himself. And that it’s decorated like something he’d see as a two page centerfold spread in a Martha Stewart magazine. Except nicer. And more couture. And gayer.

It’s the first time he’s ever been to Kurt’s house and only the fourth time he’s been to Lima. They used to meet halfway before Kurt transferred to Dalton or meet up in public places; something about going to Kurt’s house and meeting Kurt’s family and seeing Kurt’s _bed_ seemed a little too intimate for two people still pretending to be just friends. So they just never did.

But it’s winter break and they’re friends. And friends can hang out. In each other’s rooms. Alone. That’s totally legit.

Kurt sits on his couch (he has a couch in his _room_ ) and Blaine moves to follow him when they hear a noise upstairs.

“Oh hell,” Kurt says, eyes wide. “Please no.”

“Uh, Kurt?” a voice says from the top of the stairs. “You down there?”

Kurt straightens up like he's trying to steel himself for something. Blaine just looks at him quizzically.

“Yes,” he answers. “I’m down here.”

The voice upstairs clears his throat. “You … alone? Or are you, you know. Not alone.”

Kurt shakes his head and his eyes briefly flutter shut but he recovers quickly and the movement is barely visible. “Not alone,” he answers. Blaine wonders why Kurt’s not offering this guy any additional information.

The voice clears his throat again. “Are you decent? Or are there, you know. Things exposed.”

Kurt sighs dramatically. “No, Finn. Nothing’s _exposed_. I have a friend over and we’re just sitting here. We’re not being _gay_ with each other.” He doesn’t sound mad, just borderline embarrassed.

“Okay,” the voice -- Finn --says. “I’m coming down.”

He takes his time coming down the stairs and Blaine assumes he’s giving them time to cover up anything that’s exposed. Kurt looks at Blaine, cheeks a little pink. “I’m really sorry about anything that happens in the next five minutes.”

Blaine frowns and shrugs. “It’s okay. What’re you so worried about?”

And then Finn (who’s like, six foot a million) is standing at the base of the stairs looking at him suspiciously. Blaine vaguely remembers him from Sectionals but then and there he was all smiles and here and now he’s giving Blaine looks that make him feel very uncomfortable. And short. And defenseless.

“Hand check,” is all he says, still standing by the steps.

Blaine’s eyes widen and Kurt sputters, “Wha -- are you serious?”

“Hand check,” Finn repeats, eyebrows raised.

Blaine slowly raises his hands and out of the corner of his eye, he sees Kurt do the same. He steals a glance at Kurt (making sure to keep his hands where Finn can see them) and whispers, “What’s going on?”

Kurt’s cheeks have gone from pink to red and he says, “He’s being ridiculous. I’m sorry.”

“Okay, you can put your hands down now,” Finn tells them as he makes his way over. He stops in front of the couch and _towers_ over Blaine. He’s never felt this short in his life. His subconscious tries to tell him that it’s because Finn is standing and Blaine is sitting but it doesn’t do much good because regardless, there’s a crazy height difference.

“I’m Kurt’s brother,” Finn tells him. “It’s my responsibility to inspect all boyfriends. I’m sure you understand.”

“He’s not -- we’re _friends_ ,” Kurt says through gritted teeth.

“Mmhm,” Finn says looking thoroughly unconvinced, not even glancing at Kurt. Blaine’s starting to feel weirded out by the staredown. It’s bizarre.

“I know what _all_ teenage boys are after,” Finn says to Blaine. “Just so you know that.”

“I -- okay,” Blaine responds. “We’re friends.”

Finn thinks for a minute and then moves to sit on the couch. _In between them_. He gives Kurt a look when he doesn’t move over immediately. Kurt sighs dramatically again.

“Will you just go back upstairs?”

“No,” Finn says, still waiting.

“We’re fine,” Kurt argues. “No one is besmirching anyone’s virtue.”

“I … don’t know what that means,” Finn says, eyes all squinty. “But it doesn’t sound good.” He waits.

“Oh my -- fine,” Kurt sighs, moving over. Blaine watches the whole thing with wide eyes.

He still feels super short sitting next to Finn and his view to Kurt is now completely obscured. He's not _scared_ per se but he’s definitely not … at ease.

“Hey,” Finn says, giving him a quick nod.

“Hi,” Blaine answers back.

“I know karate,” Finn tells him.

Kurt leans forward so that he can see Blaine. “He doesn’t. He doesn’t know karate.”

Finn just keeps staring. Blaine doesn’t break eye contact. He wonders if he should like, hunch lower. He’s seen it on Animal Planet when the little monkey is trying to avoid a fight with the big monkey. He gives it a shot, just in case.

“You are completely overreacting, Finn. Blaine and I are friends.”

Finn thinks for a minute. “But you’re on Kurt’s team, right?”

Blaine’s confused. “Like, the Warblers? Yeah,” he says slowly.

“No, he means the gay team,” Kurt explains. “And yes but we. Are. Just. Friends.” Blaine’s a little impressed at how much he punctuates each word.

And finally _finally_ Finn looks away from him so that he can stare at Kurt. “Friends? Like, the same way Rachel and I were friends last year?”

Kurt’s face crinkles up in disgust. “Ugh, I don’t even want to know what that means. I beg of you, please do not elaborate.”

“I had a girlfriend,” Finn explains, looking back to Blaine. “But it didn’t mean that I didn’t … want things. From Rachel.”

Blaine nods slowly. “Okay.”

“So. You know. I know how things work.” He’s staring at Blaine like he’s waiting for a response. Blaine has no idea what that could possibly be.

“I -- don’t have a boyfriend?” he tries. And as an afterthought, “Or a girlfriend.”

“But you want things,” Finn says knowingly.

And now Kurt’s face has gone from red to a weird magenta-y color. “Finn, please stop talking. I’ll give you anything you want.”

“Hey, I’m just looking after you,” Finn says. “I know how teenage boys work. I know what they think. I know what they _feel_.”

“ _I’m_ a teenage boy,” Kurt hisses. “Why do I have to be the girl in your scenario?”

“Because you’re my brother,” Finn answers like it’s totally obvious and possibly the dumbest question in the world.

“I -- what does that even _mean_?”

“It means that his brother can intimidate you and give _you_ the third degree and treat _him_ like the girl.” Finn turns to Blaine and gives him the weakest looking glare he’s ever seen.

It’s Blaine’s turn to lean forward around the looming tower that is Finn to catch Kurt’s eye. “I don’t -- I don’t have a brother.”

“I’m so not worried,” Finn tells Kurt quietly. “I can totally take his brother, no big deal.”

“Okay, fine,” Kurt pleads. “You can totally take his _non-existent_ brother in a completely _fictional_ fight over my still-very-intact virtue. You win. Now will you please go upstairs?”

Finn considers for a minute. “Okay,” he says, standing. He walks towards the stairs and then hesitates and turns to face them. “I’ll be upstairs. If you need anything.”

“I’ll be fine,” Kurt responds. “I have some pepper spray on the dresser.” Blaine bites his lip to suppress a smile.

Finn just nods in approval. “Excellent.”

When he's gone, Kurt moves closer on the couch (but not too close; they’re still trying to pretend they’re just friends) and apologizes. “I am really, truly sorry. If you want to leave, I understand.”

Blaine laughs. “I’m fine, really.”

“Okay,” Kurt says, sounding relieved. “He’s harmless, I swear.”

“It’s actually kind of sweet of him,” Blaine states. “If you think about it.”

Kurt nods. “Oh, I know. It would just be more apropos if it was directed towards an actual boyfriend.”

Blaine clears his throat. “Right.”

They’re quiet for a minute until Kurt breaks the silence. “So, a movie?”

“Sure,” Blaine agrees.

They settle on Notting Hill for some reason and about halfway through, Blaine excuses himself to the bathroom.

“Upstairs, second door on your left,” Kurt instructs. “Want me to pause it?”

“Nah,” Blaine says. “I’ll only be a minute.”

“Okay,” he replies, giving him a small shy smile. Blaine’s heart does that stupid fluttery thing that’s so irritating.

Once he gets up the stairs, he sees Finn sitting alone in the living room watching a football game. He eyes Blaine warily.

“Just going to the bathroom,” Blaine offers as an explanation.

He pauses on his way to the second door on the left to look at the score and Finn catches him. “You like football?” he asks.

Blaine shrugs. “College. It’s more fun to watch; they’ve still got some integrity. It’s not all about the money yet.”

Finn mulls that over. Blaine watches him, not sure if the conversation is over or if he can head on over to the bathroom.

“Hey, about what Kurt said earlier,” Finn starts. Blaine waits. “Before I came down. About how you two weren’t … being gay with each other.”

“Yeah?” Blaine says cautiously.

“I don’t have a problem with that. I mean, it’s cool.”

“Okay,” he says slowly.

“Just wanted you to know.”

“Thanks.” Blaine is beyond confused.

“What I do have a problem with,” Finn continues, “is someone being gay with him and then not being gay with him anymore.”

Blaine doesn’t say a word. He’s lost.

“Just. You better be careful.”

Blaine’s quiet. “I will.”

“Even if you are just friends,” he adds, like he still doesn’t totally buy it.

Blaine thinks for a minute. “So you and Rachel were friends even though you wanted to be more?” he asks, willing himself to shut up.

“Yeah.”

Blaine pauses. “Then to answer your question from downstairs, yes. I’m friends with him the exact same way you were with Rachel.”

Finn doesn’t say anything but Blaine can somehow tell that he appreciates the honesty. Finn clears his throat and says, “I’ll let you know the score.”

Blaine nods and heads over to the bathroom. That went well, he thinks. The brother seal of approval is practically as important as passing the Dad Test.

The rest of the movie goes by too quickly and if his knee almost brushes against Kurt’s every other second, well. That just can’t be helped.

After the movie’s over and they can’t think of any more excuses for them to be sitting too close on his couch, Kurt walks him to the door (but not to his car, definitely not out to his car, too much like a date). Finn’s still sitting on the couch watching the game but they pretend he’s not there.

“Thanks for coming over,” Kurt says, sounding suddenly shy. When his voice gets like that, Blaine’s stomach drops every damn time, no exceptions.

“Of course,” Blaine responds. “I always get bored over winter break.”

“Oh, so you’re here because you’re bored?” Kurt teases. “So what, I’m better than a marathon of Cold Case or something?”

Blaine laughs softly and takes an unconscious step towards him. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” Kurt says. They stare at each other for a few moments. Blaine wills himself to look away; if they keep this up, they can’t really pull off the Just Friends thing. They’re reaching with that as is, anyway.

“If you want to meet up again, just let me know,” Blaine says, still watching Kurt.

“Okay,” he answers.

“'Okay' you’ll let me know?” Blaine asks.

Kurt smiles. “’Okay’ I want to hang out again. This is me letting you know.” Kurt takes a small step forward and now they’re dangerously close to Not Just Friends.

Finn clears his throat. “28-14 Buckeyes,” he says.

Kurt’s gaze falters and the moment’s broken.

“Wha -- oh. Okay, thanks,” Blaine says. He hates football for a minute. “Well, I’m going to --” he trails off and gestures to the door.

“Right,” Kurt responds, nodding. “I’ll see you soon.”

“Definitely,” he answers, grinning. He’s already got an imaginary countdown in his head.

Blaine opens the door and zips up his jacket. After he closes it behind him, he stands on the porch for a second, trying to get his head on straight. Take it slow, he reminds himself. “Don’t rush anything,” he reminds himself quietly.

“He’s into you,” Blaine hears Finn say from the other side of the door. Blaine rolls his eyes and thinks, Thanks, Finn. See if I ever confide in you again.

He can hear Kurt scoff in response. “You don’t even know him.”

“Yeah but I have eyes, Kurt.”

Blaine can barely hear Kurt hum a response. “Let’s watch something that’s not football, shall we?”

“What, you don’t want to talk about it?” he hears Finn ask.

“I don’t,” Kurt answers.

Blaine wonders what that means. He shrugs and heads over to his car.

It’s going to be a long ride home. Maybe he’ll call Kurt.

:::

And then Blaine meets like, _everyone else_ all at once. Individually, they’re not as scary but as a whole … it’s intimidating. It’s really more of a quantity over quality type of deal.

Kurt calls him a few days after the New Year and invites him to go see a Vocal Adrenaline performance. “They’re doing a holiday show,” Kurt explains. “And all of the New Directions guys are going.”

Blaine frowns on the other end of the phone. Kurt sounds too excited and Blaine doesn’t have the heart to tell him that a guy’s night out at a high school _show choir_ performance is like, beyond gay. And not exactly the norm. Oh well.

“I’m in,” Blaine says.

Two days later, they’re sitting in Blaine’s car, driving to Akron. Alone.

“So. Holiday show choir performance?” Blaine asks. “Whose idea was that?”

Kurt shrugs. “Good question. Finn told me about it last week.”

“Uh huh. And it’s only the guys?”

“Yes,” Kurt says, and there’s a tone in his voice Blaine can’t quite recognize. “It’s the first time I’ve ever been … one of the guys.”

Blaine’s heart beats a little faster and he realizes right then and there that he’s in love. Well, hell.

“Typically, they go the ‘Playing Halo and eating Taco Bell in Mike’s basement’ venue so I’m not sure what brought this on,” Kurt continues. “But it might have to do with taffeta.”

“Taffeta?” Blaine asks.

“Mercedes tells me that the boys found out the Vocal Adrenaline’s costumes are heavy in the taffeta department this season. And then they saw what taffeta _was_. I'm fairly certain that most of them think the performers will be wearing nothing _but_ taffeta.” He’s gesturing around while he’s talking and Blaine watches every move intently.

He swallows and tries to focus his eyes on the road. “I think they’ll be disappointed.”

“Agreed. But they’re going to a high school holiday show choir performance expecting something from Burlesque. I really don’t feel all that sorry for them.”

Blaine bites his cheek to keep from laughing. Being in the car alone like this, it’s hard to pretend that they’re not on a date.

Soon enough, though, they’re stepping out of the car in the Carmel High parking lot.

“Over there,” Kurt says, pointing to a group of guys standing in front of the main entrance door. Blaine vaguely recognizes them from Sectionals: the blond teenybopper kid that sang lead vocals, the Asian kid with the crazy dance moves, the guy with a Mohawk, and the kid in a wheelchair. Because a kid in a wheelchair at Sectionals kind of stands out. And then there’s Finn, still towering over everyone.

“Hey,” the Mohawk kid says, pointing at Blaine and Kurt. “We said no chicks.”

Blaine stiffens; a minute in and already a gay joke from a football player.

“He doesn’t mean it like that,” Kurt says apologetically. “I’m sorry.”

As they get closer, the wheelchair kid looks up at Blaine. “He meant no _significant others_. Don’t mind him.”

Blaine nods. “Right.”

“He’s a friend,” Kurt says, before Blaine can say anything else.

All five guys stare at the pair of them, completely unconvinced.

“This is Blaine,” Kurt says, pointing to him. Blaine offers a lame wave and feels immediately self-conscious about it. He feels like a tool.

Kurt continues on with the introductions. “This is Mike.” He points to the dancer, who gives a small head nod. “This is Puck.” He gestures to the Mohawk kid, who just raises an eyebrow. “This is Sam.” He points to the blond, who only says, “Yo.” Then he points to the kid in the wheelchair and says, “And that’s Artie.” Artie says, “Hey,” and gives him what Blaine thinks might be a gang sign? But he’s not sure.

“And you know Finn,” Kurt concludes.

“Dude, he already met the family?” Puck asks, eyebrow still arched.

“Here,” Finn says, ignoring him and handing Kurt two tickets. “I got these for you guys.”

Kurt blinks and looks a little taken aback. “I -- thanks. That’s really nice of you.” He takes them and passes one to Blaine. “Are we ready?”

“Ready for some soft-core nudity, hell _yeah_ ,” Puck says.

Sam claps his hands in what Blaine assumes is agreement. This is going to be interesting.

When they get inside, they see that most people are still milling around and no one’s gone into the theatre yet.

“Mmm, Junior Mints,” Finn says, staring at the snack bar. “Mmmm.”

He’s making noises that are borderline sexual and Blaine takes a few steps away. Just in case.

“I’ll go get candy,” Finn tells the rest of them and Sam moves to go with him.

“Do you want a soda?” Kurt asks him, almost putting his hand on Blaine’s arm but then thinking better of it.

“Sure,” Blaine answers.

“I’ll go with you,” Mike says, and Blaine has no idea where he even came from.

Kurt’s mouth sort of hangs open and he looks nervous. “Oh --okay. Are you just going to stay here with Puck and Artie then?” he asks and Blaine can tell he’s saying, Please don’t stay here alone with Puck and Artie.

“He’ll be fine,” Puck answers for him, putting an arm around Blaine’s shoulders. “We’ll keep him company.”

Blaine clears his throat and thinks, Don’t show fear. They can always smell fear.

Puck pulls him towards some couches by the door and Kurt watches them go, eyes still wide, until Mike nudges him towards the beverage stand.

They’re still inside but Blaine can see the parking lot through the windows and he does a quick scan for any dumpsters. His eye catches on a bright green one in the corner and it’s the tallest dumpster Blaine’s ever seen in his entire life. He’s too short to climb out of one that size. He could be missing for _days._

But Puck just sits on one of the couches and half man-handles Blaine into the seat next to him and definitely not in a sexy kind of way. It’s just the two of them and Blaine’s looking around for Artie before he realizes how pathetic it is to look for a kid in a wheelchair as _protection._

“So,” Puck starts with an unimpressed look on his face. “All-boys school.”

“Yeah,” Blaine answers, even though it wasn’t really a question.

“Sorry about the feathers and blending right in comment. All-boy school, I guess I just assumed you guys all dressed like RuPaul.”

Blaine considers asking what the _hell_ he’s talking about but lets it go and decides it’s safer to ask Kurt later.

“So how do two dudes even fool around?” Puck asks after a long minute of silence. He doesn’t look interested or anything, just maybe like he’s trying to make an effort. “Do you have to like, touch each other’s junk?”

Blaine is genuinely, absolutely, horrifyingly speechless.

“You’re right,” Puck answers for him. “It’s probably better that I don’t know. Good call.”

He catches Kurt’s eyes from across the room then and Kurt has that deer-in-headlights look that shouldn’t be absolutely charming but totally is. Blaine tries to give him a reassuring look but he’s pretty sure his cheeks are pink so he doesn’t know how convincing he’d be.

“Kurt’s my boy,” Puck non-sequitors.

“Is he?” Blaine asks in response, not meaning to sound so doubtful but come _on_. How are he and Kurt friends?

“Hell yeah,” he tells him, defensive. “Look, I wanted to go all stealthy samurai in that locker room but dude, I got juvie hanging over my head.”

Blaine supposes that sentence makes sense to someone somewhere but he lets it go again. He's just having a hard time reconciling this guy with the stories he’s heard about McKinley football players. “Okay,” is all Blaine can think of to say.

“I mean it,” Puck continues with a weird apologetic tone to his voice. “I got his back. He’s a cool kid.”

“He is,” Blaine agrees.

“And that Single Ladies dance was seriously gay but whatever, he won us our first football game and that was pretty dope.”

Yeah, okay, Blaine’s not letting _that_ one go.

“Sorry, what?”

Puck rolls his eyes. “Okay, look I get that that word isn’t always kosher to throw around but it was a bunch of dudes in skintight spandex pants dancing to Beyonce together. I’m pretty sure that’s the definition of gay.” He looks at Blaine expectantly. “You can’t get mad at that one.”

Blaine shakes his head. “No no, that’s not what I meant. I meant, what football game?”

“Uh, the one where Kurt was the kicker?” Puck says really slowly, like Blaine is an infant or worse.

“Kick -- kicker?” Blaine chokes out. Kurt was on the _football_ team?

Puck just gives him a scornful look. “It was on YouTube, man. Everyone knows about that.” He shakes his head and pulls a pack of clove cigarettes out of his shirt pocket. “I’m gonna peace out for a few minutes.”

He heads outside right as Artie wheels on over and Blaine looks up to see Kurt still angsting in the drink line. He’s shooting Blaine looks like, What the hell is going on? Blaine shrugs in response and gives Kurt a small smile.

“Heeeey,” Artie says as he nears. “What’s goin’ on, yo?”

Blaine exhales slowly. “Hey,” he responds. “How are you?”

Artie shoots him a huge smile. “Awesome. This show is going to be pretty tight.”

He nods. “You mean … the taffeta?”

Artie shrugs his shoulders. “Nah, I hear they put an urban kick into a few of their numbers. It’s gonna be off the hook.”

Blaine frowns and wonders if Artie is from like, the ghetto part of Lima. He wonders if there even _is_ a ghetto part of Lima. He also wonders if Artie knows that the whole sweater-vest-jazz-band vibe doesn’t exactly go hand-in-hand with the Lima ghetto thing he’s aiming for.

“Plus,” Artie continues, “Who cares about chicks in taffeta when you’re dating a hot cheerleader, right?” He holds his fist out to Blaine like they’re congratulating each other, which makes no sense.

Blaine blinks and then awkwardly bumps it. “I’m -- uh. I’m not dating a cheerleader.” Dating a cheerleader is one of those things that Blaine has always been pretty confident about never happening, going to an all-boys school and being, you know, ridiculously gay and all.

Artie rolls his eyes. “Well not anymore he's not, sure.”

Blaine has a hard time swallowing. Before he can make the obvious comment about Kurt not being his boyfriend, he says, “Are you saying Kurt was a cheerleader?”

Artie gives him a skeptical look. “Are you being serious?”

“Does that mean he _was_ a cheerleader?” he asks, and wow, his voice sounds really weird.

And Artie’s still looking at him like he’s an idiot. “Dude, he won _Nationals_. It’s on YouTube.”

Jesus, Blaine really needs to spend some time on YouTube.

Suddenly, Blaine’s feeling flushed and confused and he just needs some air. “I’ll be right back,” he says quietly, practically speed racing to the doors.

He's only outside for a minute or two, his back against one of the stone walls and eyes closed, letting the cold January Ohio air calm him down, when he hears someone run up to him.

“What did they say to you?” Kurt asks frantically, holding a huge lidded cup of soda in his left hand. “I'm so sorry. Whatever it was, I seriously doubt it was true.”

He opens his eyes to look over at Kurt, who looks so worked up that Blaine feels terrible about making the situation worse. “They didn’t say anything,” Blaine explains softly. “I just needed some air.”

“You’re lying,” Kurt argues. “I can tell.”

Blaine thinks for a minute. “Did you really used to be a cheerleader?”

Kurt gives him a wary look. “Yes. Why?”

“ _And_ a football player?”

He snorts. “I was the guy that kicked the ball for maybe two weeks. I doubt that counts.”

“It counts,” Blaine tells him.

“Okay,” Kurt says hesitantly. “Why?”

Blaine turns to face him. “What can’t you do?”

Kurt startles. “Pardon?”

He takes a small step closer; Kurt is making an effort to keep his distance. “One thing. Tell me just one thing you can’t do. You can sing, you can dance. You were a football player _and_ a cheerleader. You stood up to that -- the football player.” His voice is barely a whisper now. “Just tell me one thing you’re not good at because -- I just can’t find anything.”

Kurt’s just staring at him and Blaine can tell there’s so much going on in his head, like he’s weighing the pros and cons of whatever he’s about to say.

“I'm -- I’m not very good at being friends with you,” Kurt says after a long silence.

Blaine’s stomach jumps around and his heart is flipping and he opens his mouth but instead --

“Guys!” Finn yells from ten feet away. “Time to take our seats!”

Blaine groans inwardly. Finn has the worst timing _ever_ and if Blaine wasn’t so much shorter than him, he’d tell him that. Right to his face.

Kurt swallows and watches Blaine for any reaction.

And the way Blaine can see it, he’s got two options: he can tell Kurt, Yeah I’m failing miserably at being just friends, too. And then they can rush into this and it’ll be great for two weeks or three weeks or however many weeks until Kurt realizes that Blaine is _literally_ the first openly gay kid he’s ever met in his whole life and oh yeah, there’s totally other gay kids out there besides Blaine, ones that are taller or dress better or are more fluent in French or do any of the things that are probably important to Kurt. And then their two weeks will be up and a few months after that Kurt will transfer back to McKinley and then Blaine will never have an excuse to see him again but hey, now Kurt will have a good story about his first boyfriend, way back when.

Or.

Or he can play dumb. And they can keep playing this game that they’ve been playing _since they met_ until Blaine’s pretty sure that Kurt’s choosing him because he’s Blaine and not because he’s Kurt’s first available option.

It’s not really a hard decision so Blaine gives a light-hearted laugh.

“You’re crazy. You’re a _great_ friend, Kurt. Don’t ever doubt that,” Blaine tells him, kind of feeling like a coward. “You think Wes would have waited in line with me for three hours on the day after Christmas just to exchange a few DVDs?”

He watches Kurt's expression relax and can tell that Kurt thinks that Blaine just still doesn’t get it, like maybe Blaine can’t see the bajillion signs they’re both sending out to each other. Kurt’s expression is back to easy and open as they walk back inside and Blaine’s just bought himself some more time.

He doesn’t make any moves during the concert, doesn’t try to hold Kurt’s hand or lean close. At any given point, he can feel the eyes of at least one New Directions member watching him. It’s beyond creepy. And it’s weird that these guys are practically as invested in his and Kurt’s almost-relationship as he and Kurt are. As badly as he wants to grab Kurt’s hand, he’s aware that it’s not the time for it yet and knowing that he has an _audience_ , it’s most certainly not the place.

During intermission, the guys all head towards the restroom so Blaine makes his way over to the concessions instead, just to give himself a few moments to regroup. He’s waiting in line, pondering the pros and cons of Twizzlers versus Skittles and suddenly hears a voice inches behind him.

“Are you eyeing that last bag of Sour Patch Kids?” Mike asks.

Blaine jumps. Where does this guy _come_ from? Is he some sort of ninja? “I didn’t see you there,” he tells Mike, heartbeat starting to slow back down to a normal rate.

Mike frowns. “Sorry. I’ll be louder next time.”

Blaine laughs, “No, it’s cool. And the Sour Patch Kids are all yours.”

“Awesome,” he says with a grin.

They stand there in awkward silence for a few minutes until they’re able to shuffle forward a few feet. “So, you’re friends with Kurt?” Mike asks to break the silence.

“I am,” Blaine answers. “I’ve only known him for a few months but it always feels like longer. You know what I mean?” He looks over to Mike and he’s not really even sure why he’s telling him all this. Mike just seems so … normal.

He nods. “He’s really cool. He tries hard, too.”

Blaine’s eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“With Glee Club,” he clarifies, off of Blaine’s look. “He really tries to get the choreography down and make it the best it can be, even if we’re the only audience. I respect that.”

Blaine nods and thinks back to Sectionals. “Yeah, you guys are good dancers.”

Mike stares at him incredulously and raises an eyebrow. “Kurt’s a good dancer. And Artie’s pretty awesome.” Blaine hears what Mike’s not saying about the rest of the guys and suddenly, he feels included, like Mike’s actually confiding in him, as lame as that sounds. He decides he needs an ally amongst Kurt’s former teammates and that that ally should be Mike.

“So are you and Kurt friends then?” he asks, not sure what else to say.

Mike shrugs. “We don’t talk a whole lot. But I don’t say much to anyone.”

Blaine nods.

“But we hung out when we were rehearsing for that song he did for the duet competition,” Mike says, like he’s suddenly remembering. “That was fun.”

“You guys did a duet together?” Blaine asks. It seems … surprisingly progressive.

But he laughs in response. “No, I sang with my girlfriend, if you want to call what I did singing. I was just a background dancer for Kurt’s song.”

“Oh,” he says. “So who was Kurt’s partner?”

“No one,” Mike answers. “He sang the song by himself.”

Blaine laughs and then stops when he sees Mike’s super serious face. “Wait, are you serious? How did he sing by himself in a _duets_ competition? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

Mike frowns again and seems almost hesitant. “I think he had a partner but then he decided to go solo. I don’t really remember.”

Blaine can totally tell he’s lying, which is a good trait to have in an ally but really unfortunate when Blaine’s trying to get some info. “Oh,” is all Blaine says.

Mike stares at him for a minute, considering. “So are you two really only friends or do you just tell people that?”

And for some reason he thinks of unloading on this kid, telling him everything and verbal vomiting all of his insecurities and just, no. Thankfully, Blaine has a filter that prevents him from creeping this kid out and instead he simply says, “Friends. We’re friends.”

Mike thinks for a minute. “I kind of thought that, yeah. You don’t seem his normal type.”

And okay, what? How does Kurt have a _type_?, Blaine wonders.

Mike apparently picks up on Blaine’s blank stare and sort of fumbles around for words. “You know, like. I don’t know. The sporty type,” he says. “The sporty type that maybe … needs a tutor for a few classes. Or all classes.”

 _Dumb jock_ is what Blaine hears, even though Mike is too good-mannered to say it.

Well, hell, Blaine thinks. Kurt has a type and that type is not Blaine. “That’s unfortunate,” he says and doesn’t realize it was out loud until it’s too late. Because _dumb jock_ definitely brings a couple of people to mind.

Mike winces and they move forward in line again. “I knew it,” he mumbles. “It’s really not a big deal and I shouldn’t have said anything. I don’t even know what happened so I shouldn’t assume anything. It’s just that he was Sam’s partner and then he wasn't his partner and next thing I know, he’s asking me to help choreograph Le Jazz Hot.”

Blaine raises an eyebrow. “Le Jazz Hot?” That’s kind of … awesome. “Let me guess, I can find it on YouTube?”

Mike tilts his head and gives Blaine a pretty decent side-eye. It’s the same look he gave Finn earlier when he was arguing that the Lord of the Rings movies actually happened since they’re based on events in a book. And it’s the same look he gave Sam during his four minute (and quite authentic) Pauly Shore impersonation.

So yeah, Blaine’s immediately embarrassed.

“I’m sure he still remembers the choreography, if that’s what you’re looking for,” Mike tells him slowly. “And he probably still has the costume.”

Blaine feels his face flush and great, there goes his shot as an ally. Now Mike thinks he's some sort of pervert with a fetish for grainy low-quality online videos of Kurt. Awesome.

But before he can explain himself, they’re joined by the rest of the group and Blaine’s just standing there with his mouth open.

“I just saw one of the girls changing her costume,” Puck informs them all. “Definitely saw some side-boob.”

Kurt catches Blaine's eye and gives him a smile. Blaine smiles back and thinks it’s all definitely worth it, possible dumpster tossing, Pauly Shore impersonations, whatever. He’d do it again, just for that smile.

“I could really go for some Junior Mints right now,” Sam tells the group. “I really need those in my life.”

Blaine looks over to watch Sam stare at the chocolate on display and all he can think is, Yeah, he’s _okay_ I guess. It’s not really the type of guy he pictured Kurt attracted to, to be honest. But yeah, he’s definitely built and his hair does look very well taken care of and he’s a pretty decent height, taller than Blaine, that’s for sure.

So he’s staring at Sam for a few minutes, trying to see what Kurt sees in him when he realizes that yeah, _he’s staring at Sam for a few minutes_. His eyes dart away nervously but he sees Kurt watching him watch Sam. Kurt’s not really smiling anymore and he looks away.

Blaine’s not as restrained during the second half of the show. He makes sure his knee bumps up against Kurt’s every few minutes or so (accidentally of course) and if Kurt’s arm shifts slightly on their shared armrest, Blaine makes sure to follow it with his own. He’s trying not to come off as creepy or possessive or like someone who has a fetish for grainy online Kurt videos but it’s _hard_. He’s surrounded by people who have this clear, identifiable place in Kurt Hummel’s life and he just wants to cut a spot out for himself. He can’t have ‘best friend’; that position’s taken. He’s waiting on ‘boyfriend’ but that role might take some time and he’s not risking anything to rush it. Blaine doesn’t have what these people all have, this history with Kurt and the stories and the memories.

So their eyes are all still on him -- watching, monitoring -- and Blaine feels like his arm touching Kurt’s, his leg alongside Kurt’s leg … that those things mean something. He’s not sure how else to show them but he hopes his meaning is clear to the five guys watching him intently: he might not be anything to Kurt Hummel yet but wait for it and he will be.

:::

They’re on the way back and the car ride is quiet. They’re listening to Kurt’s iPod and it’s not really awkward or anything but it’s not like it normally is, either.

About fifteen miles in, Kurt finally clears his throat and says, “Sam’s straight, you know.”

Blaine raises his eyebrow and is totally confused as to where this is going because, _duh_. “Oh?”

“In case you were wondering.”

Blaine laughs a little. “I definitely wasn't.”

Kurt turns to look at him, eyes drawn together in confusion. “I saw you looking at him.”

He shakes his head, still smiling. “Not like that, I wasn’t. He’s not my type.”

He can actually _hear_ Kurt swallow. “Oh? So what’s your type?”

And there’s no way Blaine’s answering that because it’s not possible to answer that question and not describe Kurt at this point. Everything that Kurt _is_ is everything that Blaine _wants_ and there’s not a chance he’s saying that out loud.

“Oh, you know,” Blaine starts casually. “Jessica Alba, Kate Winslet, Sandra Bullock, that type.”

And Kurt laughs. “They don’t look anything like each other. You’re naming random actresses just to be obtuse.”

Blaine shrugs and grins back at him. “What’s _your_ type?” He keeps his eyes on the road and tries to pretend he’s not as interested in the answer as Kurt just was when the tables were turned.

“Me?” Kurt scoffs. “I don’t have a type.”

“Everyone has a type, Kurt.”

He thinks for a minute. “I don’t know,” he answers, his voice sounding soft. “I like performers, I think.”

And Blaine -- he _beams_. He doesn’t care for five seconds about the Just Friends charade because that’s good news. It’s really good news.

Blaine thinks of saying, I like _you_. He thinks of saying, I like terrible spies who look at me like they see something special, make me _feel_ like I'm something special. He thinks of saying, you think you like performers and I think I’m falling in love with you.

But he doesn’t, not yet. He looks at Kurt, who’s looking back at him with eyes so intense and so full of everything that he wants to tell Blaine but he’s waiting to hear it all first.

Blaine’s patient. He's not rushing this. He’s going to make it _count_. He's sixteen and he doesn’t care if it sounds unreal or unlikely; Blaine’s surer of it than anything else in his life. He’ll wait to say those words and he’ll wait to hold Kurt’s hand and he’ll wait to meet Kurt’s dad.

Kurt Hummel is his endgame. He’ll wait.


End file.
